The Jack Sparrow WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM
by ElvenGreen98
Summary: Ever wondered if Will had any friends besides Elizabeth? Enter Anne, 8 years before the Curse Adventure. Time passes & evrything's peachy til she sees a murder & is threatened. Who does Will employ to fix the prob? Why who else? Prologue re-write up R&R!
1. Prologue: The Dirty Boy

Author's Note: Catherine's grandfather was of Cajun origin (French, Native American, and African, populous in New Orleans at the time.) Her name is pronounced Cat-reen, accent on the 'reen' as in KatRINa Van Tassel. As it was shameful to be French in an English world at the time, Anne's father anglo-sized their names, but, as he didn't want to shove the French heritage entirely down the drain, he pronounced his daughter's name the French way. This is a re-write, cause I watched the movie again and realized that I screwed up on some points. Anyhoo, on to the stupid disclaimer thingie.

Disclaimer: I don't own Potc. I own Anne, and any other characters that you are unfamiliar with cuz I made 'em up. You can't sue, sorry, I know you wanted to so much. Onward!

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Prologue: The Dirty Boy

Catherine Anne Chausseur walked into J. Brown's smithy on a slightly chilly Tuesday morning---chilly for the Caribbean, that is. She went there on business matters, though she was only nine years old. She ran an errand for her father, who currently dealt with customers in his little shop of mercantile goods and oddities. Catherine went to J. Brown's smithy to pay for the services he'd given five days ago repairing the shop door's hinges. She'd put the money in her under drawers, figuring no thief would want to look there.

When Catherine entered the dark room, Mr. Brown sat in a chair, snoring. His hands rested over his drunkard's belly, clasping a bottle of rum. Catherine was not disheartened, however, she was rather pleased at the opportunity to remove the money from her underwear without Mr. Brown taking any lewd peeks. She sat down on the steps and began to lift her plain brown skirt to her knees.

"No, Miss, please stop!" came a young voice from the shadows.

Catherine flung her skirt back to her ankles and sat up straight, sharply alert.

"Who's there?!" she implored, but a heavy breath was her only answer. "Who's there?" she repeated. "Tell me or --- or --- or I'll get Mr. Brown on you!"

"No, please don't do that! Alright, I'll come out."

A young boy emerged from his hiding place. Beneath his black eye and split lip, he looked to be about twelve years old and he looked like he hadn't bathed in months. He slumped over in shame, dwarfing his remarkably tall height. 

"Oh!" gasped Catherine, "What happened to your face?"

The boy winced at the comment, but he answered nonetheless, "I ruined something of Mr. Brown's so he struck me, and gave me a right terrible licking, too."

"Oh," Catherine remarked solemnly. "But how do you know Mr. Brown?" she asked.

At this he stood up straight and tall and, grabbing his vest, said, "I'm his new apprentice," quite proudly. Then he lost his balance.

Catherine hopped down from her perch and grabbed his hand to steady him. The boy yelped, and that was when Catherine noticed a fluid of some sort on his palm. She looked at the coin-sized boil and the bloodied gash that marked it. The wound was a burn.

"Did he do this to you too?" she asked.

"Nah. I'm just a bit clumsy is all."

"But still, it needs to be bandaged… hmm. Wait a moment."

Catherine gingerly let go of his hand and hurried over to the snoozing Mr. Brown.

"'Ey, Mr. Brown. Mr. Brown, wake up." She tapped him on the shoulder, then poked, hard. Brown snorted and squinted his eyes at the girl with the long and freckled face.

"Mr. Brown, I'm takin' you apprentice with me. I accidentally put a hurt on 'im, and now I need to clean it up a bit. And I have your money for you." She stooped down and, risking a peek from Mr. Brown, quickly took the money from her underwear. He reached for it, but accidentally grabbed her wrist in his drunken daze.

"Uuh, I'll just set it over here with a note. And I'm taking your apprentice with me to clean 'im up, alright?"

"Unh, yeah, yeah …" said Mr. Brown before falling back to sleep.

Catherine set the two shillings on the table and quickly scribbled a note, then led the boy out of the smithy. They walked in silence for nearly half of the walk, but the boy interrupted the quietness.

"You know, you never did ask my name," he said.

Catherine waited, expecting to hear it immediately afterward.

"Well, what is it?" she asked after a bit.

"Will Turner," the boy replied.

"Catherine Anne Chaucer," she told him, using the English pronunciation of her name, as she did with all people in Port Royale. She reached to give his good hand a firm shake, but he had stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're French?" he asked. Catherine scowled. 

"Stuff it , you! I ain't French! Just 'cause I pronounce my name French doesn't mean I am one!" said Catherine defensively, crossing her arms over her ribcage. She was actually part Cajun, but the boy did not need to know that.

"Sorry, I --- Sorry. I meant nothing by it."

"Well, good. And anyhow its from a few begettins' back and it's just stuck real bad."

"Oh."

The two walked for a few more moments without speaking.

"So, is Will your Pa's name too?"

"Yeah, but he's gone. I don't know where on earth he is," Will told her, his voice riddled with solemnity.

"My Ma's gone too. Oh, there's my place," Catherine said, taking Will's good hand and leading him up to the door. "Pa!" she called. "This is my new friend, Will Turner. He's got a few hurts on 'im that need some looking at."

Charles Chaussuer took a look at his face, widened his eyes, then disappeared through a doorway behind him. Pa emerged with a few rags, and two bottles, on containing rum and the other witch hazel. He directed Will to a small table and soon joined him. Pa uncorked the rum and wet a rag with it, which he then dotted on Will's cut lip. The witch hazel came next.

"Now, hold that there over your eye," Pa said, giving him a rag that smelt of witch hazel. When Will raised his right hand to do so, his burn wound shown clear.

"Oh! Your hand is hurt as well," said Pa, "but give me your hand and I'll bandage that too."

Will lifted his left hand to hold the witch-hazeled rag, and set his right on the table, palm facing up.

"Alright, Will," Pa began, picking the bottle of rum up, "this is goin' to sting right bad, but it'll keep any festerins' away." Will nodded and clamped his teeth closed in preparation for it. Pa let a few drops fall onto Will's hand before pouring a whole slew of it on. Will hissed in pain as the rum bubbled on his hand. Pa left it there for about a minute, then wiped it clean, saying, "There, there, son."

Will looked up, startled. Catherine's heart pounded, fearing what the practically orphaned boy's response would be.

"You called me son," said Will.

"Aye," replied Pa, "'cause every friend of my child is also my child."

A small smile spread across the boy's face. "Thank you," he said. 

Such things are the beginnings of friendship.

As Will and Alexandra returned to Brown's smithy, conversation flared. 

"Thanks for helping me out, and for being my friend, Miss." Will said.

"Miss? Well, then, the pleasure is all mine, uum, Mister. But you needn't call me Miss or anything. Just call me Catherine or Anne or anything' you like, and I'll call you Will; we're friends, and the titles are silly, anyhow," Catherine answered, bringing a bit of hesitation to Will's mind.

"Uuh, well, alright. We _are _friends, after all, Cat --- Catha --- Anne."

"That's right," said Anne. "Do you have many friends?"

"Well, you and, I think, Elizabeth Swann. I met her on the boat from England I haven't seen her for a while though …"

"Hmm. Elizabeth Swann; that sounds real familiar …"

"Well, she's Governor Swann's daughter," Will volunteered.

Catherine looked up at him, her eyes wide and round.

"'Ow! The governor's daughter? How'd you meet her?"

"Ah … like I said, we were on the ship together."

Anne could tell he was beating about the bush a little, but she, wisely so, decided not to inquire any farther. 

"I've never had any friends, just Pa," she told him instead.

"I never knew my Father. My Mother told me he was a merchant sailor. I came out here to look for him; I haven't found him yet."

"Really?"

"Yes. I'm on my own in a way."

"But where's your Ma? Doesn't she take care of you?"

"No. She's dead too," Will said, his eyes melded with the ground.

"I'm sorry, how terrible for you. I don't know how ---"

"Enough already! She's dead and my Father's probably dead, and there's nothing' to be done about it, so why talk about it?!" shouted Will, startling Anne --- She had no idea that she was being insensitive.

"Sorry, Will," she said, _her_ eyes now cast to the ground.

He said nothing, but took Anne's little hand in his bandaged one. Though no words were spoken, Anne knew that Will had forgiven her insensitivity. Anne looked up and smiled to him.

Will smiled back.

From that day on, Will and Anne were brother and sister.

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Author's Note: I hope you like it. Do read on, Chapter 3 will be up soon, hopefully. My parents are being butts about fanfic, they say it's a waste of time, so it might be a while. I hope not though.


	2. Chapter One: Festerin' Dish Rags and Ef...

Chapter One: Festerin' Dish Rags and Effeminate Men

"Anne!"

"Wo-aah!" Anne screamed. Will stepped in front of her, holding her maid's bonnet.

"Will!" she scolded, but smiled and embraced him, as always. "Don't do that. You're lucky Governor Swann didn't see you." She snatched her bonnet back and began to stuff her wiry brown-blond hair into it. She picked up her polishing rag and returned to the silver.

"So, you've come to give 'em Norrington's sword, eh?" she asked.

"That's right," Will answered, then, looking over his shoulder asked, "Is Miss Swann awake, then?"

"Aye, she's just getting ready. Her father bought her a dress with a corset, poor dear. I helped wrap it myself."

Will had no idea what a corset was, nor the want to inquire over it, as he considered it a personal issue of Elizabeth and the maids. Anne turned slowly, a silver butter knife in her hand.

"You know, Will, Captain Norrington seeks her hand," she said quietly. Will's head alerted with the ferocity of a storm.

"Does he?"

"Aye, so you better get along with it," she said, winning a quizzical look from Will. Anne continued, "Will, I'm your best friend, as well as you surrogate sister; you can't hide nothin' from me. I've noticed the way you eye her and what happens to your face when I mention her. So don't try that false innocence with me, 'cause it won't work, Brother."

"Is it that obvious?" Will asked sheepishly.

"Sickeningly so," she replied mercilessly. "However," she continued, "there is a way to solve this problem."

"What's that?"

"Bloody-well-tell-her-you-love-her!"

Though it would surprise most to hear such a forceful voice come from the petite seventeen year-old, it did not surprise Will; he was accustomed to it.

"Now go stand in that foyer and wait for her. If you don't, I'll have to push you. Now, get on with you, Will. But first, let me take a look at that sword."

************

Anne dusted the furniture of the front room without paying much attention to it. She listened to the conversation in the foyer, from which the front room branch off.

"Oh, Will, how many times shall I ask you to call me 'Elizabeth?'" implored the damsel herself.

_*Alright , Will, here's you r chance.*_ Anne thought.

"At least once more, Miss Swann."

_*Oh my God, Will, you're pathetic! Blast it!* _

Anne dusted the chair vigourously enough to destroy the upholstery.

_*Idiot, idiot, IDIOT!*_

She could just picture Mrs. Murdstone, the houskeeper, shaking her forefinger at Anne as she told her to watch that temper of hers. Anne vividly imagined the woman's disgusting hairy lips pursing at her. She wiped the image from her mind and went to talk with Will, who was standing forlornly at the door.

"Well, that didn't go very well did it? You corpsed up right bad," she told him.

"Yes," he agreed, his mind off someplace else.

Anne took account of this and continued, "But, uuh, if you're real desperate, Mrs. Murdstone might be available before afternoon tea." Anne was only teasing, and usually she would be in fits of snickers by this time, but somehow she managed to keep a straight face. Needless to say, this awoke Will from his musings straightaway. He lifted her up and carried her over to a washbasin, with her giggling and squirming. 

He set her down and laughed, "Wash out that little mouth of yours," gave her a short kiss on her cheek, then turned to go.

"This ain't over yet William Michael Turner, you and me at noon o'clock over a pig slop luncheon! You'll pay, I swear it on my festerin' dish rag!" she called after him.

He turned and gave a quick wave then headed back for the smithy, smiling the whole way.

************

At noon, Anne quietly left the governor's household and made her way to the pier. She sat on a bulkhead between the fishing docks and the civilian docks when she arrived, her bare toes scarcely touching the water. Anne fingered her shoelaces beside her as she watched the incoming boats and ships. She was waiting for Will; they were supposed to go to lunch together, as they did once a month since she began to work in the governors house, four years ago, when their father died and the shop went under.

Anne sullenly gazed at the rippling water when one boat in particular got her full attention. A strange-looking man stood atop the boat's single mast, the wind blustering in his braided black hair. He had black lines around his eyes, too many belts with weapons attached to them, and all sorts of astonishing clothes on, such as a worn out hat and a pink head scarf. He was rather comical. What made him uproariously comical was the fact that only about half his mast was visible above the water. Anne laughed gently to herself as he stepped onto the dock and strode down it rather effeminately. Anne watched speculatively, wondering who this curious creature was. She saw him converse briefly with the clerk, after he'd dropped a few coins on his book, then raise his hands as if in prayer, bow his head and turn away. The strange fellow, when he came to a post, picked up the coin purse that lay there. Anne was outraged, but before she could protest, to him, his thievery, she felt a tap on her right shoulder. She turned to Will; he had at last arrived.

"Hello, ready for luncheon?"

"Absolutely," Anne answered before stealing another peek at the stranger. He was gone. Anne squinted her eyes, just to see if she'd missed him somehow. She hadn't.

"Anne?"

"Yes, let's go." She dashed off to the Painted Lady, the best tavern in Port Royale.


	3. Chapter Two: Frights and Pistols

Chapter Two: Frights and Pistols

"There was a rather peculiar man at the docks today," Anne said over a steaming bowl of soup.

"Another one?" asked Will, and then he took a slurp of his soup. 

"Oh, Will! I know I see a lot of peculiar men at the pier, but this one was more so than usual. He had all sorts of weapons and gold teeth. He was out in out strange, Will."

"Alright, sure," said Will between bites. Anne rolled her eyes.

__

*Why doesn't he take me seriously?*

"So, how has the remainder of your day been?" Will asked.

"With the nervous tizzy Murdstone's been in? Tedious. But how has yours been?"

"Fine. Brown's drunk again and sleeping in his favorite chair, not that I mind. Working is much easier without him really there."

"Amen to that!" Anne agreed, thinking of the fencing lessons Will once gave her. They'd been put to an end one year ago, when Mrs. Murdstone nearly had her sacked for it. 

"That is not the behavior we want presented to the public. Could you imagine if the _Governor's _household was known as a home for _wayward_ girls?!" Murdstone told her, referring, of course, to the fact that only the whores of that time knew how to defend themselves adequately.

Will and Anne made small talk over their soup, which gradually veered over to political talk, as always, by the end of their time together. Both needed to get back to their jobs, for different reasons. Will needed to work, and Anne needed to go back before somebody _really_ missed her. They left tavern and began to give each other a parting embrace when a dozen redcoat soldiers dashed by, their rifles brandished. 

"I wonder what's going on?" said Anne.

"I don't know. They only run about like that when there is a criminal on the loose." Will remarked. Just then a man scurried past, also bearing a weapon.

"You there," called Will, "what's all the commotion about?"

The man stopped and came over to the two friends. "Somebody put a gun or something to Governor Swann's daughter. A pirate, perhaps," he informed Will and Anne. 

Will grabbed the man's shoulders. "Is she alright?" he asked.

"Yes she's fine, just scared is what I heard. He didn't actually hurt her or nothing just scared her."

Will relaxed and said, "Alright thank you."

The man turned to go, but Anne stopped him, saying, "Wait! Do you know which direction he went?"

"That way." The man pointed left down the street toward Will's smithy, then took off in that direction.

"Will, go check your shop. I'll go back to care for Elizabeth," said Anne.

Will hurried down the street, and Anne cut through an alleyway to the hill the Governor's house sat on. 

When she entered the back door roughly ten minutes later, the servants were all in a bustle. Anne hurried to the front door of the house and reached it just as Elizabeth walked in. She was sopping wet, and only wearing her father's coat over her underclothes. 

"Miss Chaucer, do help my daughter upstairs," ordered Governor Swann. 

"Yes Sir, of course," said Anne, and followed Elizabeth up the stairway to her bedroom. 

Once the door was closed Elizabeth exclaimed, "What an uncivilized _prick!_" 

"Who?" Anne inquired, "Norrington or the pirate?"

Elizabeth giggled, "Oh, the pirate. Norrington is just --- oh I don't know --- well --- you know, I couldn't breath in that corset, and when I tried to tell him I needed help, he went on with his little speech and completely didn't realize, and then I fell off the fort and into the ocean, fainted. Jack Sparrow saved me, actually, but then he threatened me to get what he wanted. Oh, I had to stand so close to the smelly oaf and put his hat and arsenal of weapons back on him after Norrington had him clapped in irons! It was absolutely revolting!"

"Sounds terribly exciting to me!" I objected as I helped Elizabeth out of her wet clothing.

"Well, yes, actually it was. But still revolting. Actually, that part with Jack Sparrow was part of the excitement."

"Who is Jack Sparrow? Is he the pirate?" Anne asked as she helped Elizabeth out of her sopping clothes.

"Yes. He ran off, you know. That was what he wanted, to get away, and he did. I sure hope they find him and put him in jail."

"Well, he went toward the smithy. In fact, that's probably where he went to get the irons of him. But no worry, Will is an excellent swordsman. My brother will take care of him all right."

"I find it so strange that the two of you are related, but have different last names," Elizabeth remarked.

"Well, we don't actually have the same blood at all. We met when we were very young and he had just come to Port Royale. We've been best friends ever since," Anne said.

Elizabeth then startled Anne by asking, "Does he fancy you?"

Anne was completely floored. This was the most personal conversation she had ever had with Elizabeth, and, furthermore, nobody had ever assumed Will fancied her. The thought of it disgusted her. She knew every detail of Will's life and a great deal of what went on in his mind, and the thought of marrying him totally disgusted her!

"No!" Anne exclaimed. "Of course not. He fancies you, though. I told him that he better move along if he wanted to propose to you before the good Commodore did," Anne babbled before she knew what she was saying.

Elizabeth's mouth hung open, moving slightly as if she were trying to say something, but had no voice.

"I'm sorry, Miss, forgive me. Perhaps I was being too forward."

Anne left the room quietly and filled the bathtub with a few buckets of warm water. Elizabeth followed, peeling off her wet stockings as she hopped along.

"Er --- no, you weren't. I was just under the impression that he hated me, or didn't like me, or something like that."

"No, quite the contrary, Miss," Anne replied.

"Well, I suppose it really doesn't matter anyhow. I don't feel that way about him, and with the Commodore's proposal it wouldn't be sensible to begin such feelings," said Elizabeth nonchalantly. Anne knew she was lying, but she decided not to comment. Anne was also startled by the other part of Elizabeth's statement.

"Commodore Norrington proposed marriage to you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"How dreadful," Anne mused. Then she worried that Elizabeth would get angry with her and braced herself for an Elizabeth's "That was too bold," or "please do not say such things in my presence," (yes, she could be too aristocratic at times) but the reply Anne got was different.

"Well, no," Elizabeth reasoned, "He _is_ a fine man, but …."

"You don't imagine him as your husband. I understand. You know, once the stable hand, Davy tried to kiss me, and I had to turn him down. I felt bad doing it, but I had to. He was fine, and now he's getting married. So, you see, it may hurt the good Commodore, but he'll find somebody else easy. After all, he's got a title --- and a good one for that matter --- so many women would say yes in a jiffy." Anne finished.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"So, what was it like?" Elizabeth whispered curiously.

"What was what like?" asked a bewildered Anne.

"The kiss!" Elizabeth clarified, still whispering; pre-betrothal kisses were completely scandalous during that Age.

"Oh. Well, I don't know. I stopped him before he could."

"You didn't," said Elizabeth, disappointed. "I would have waited, just to see what it was like," said the so-obviously-non-conformist-in-some-respects Elizabeth.

"And buss Davy? Ick! I think not," said Anne.

Elizabeth giggled and said, "Have you ever bussed a man?"

"No, but I have bussed a cat before," Anne joked. Elizabeth giggled some more. 

"I haven't ever kissed a man, but I can think of a few I would like to," Anne said.

"Me too," Elizabeth agreed. Anne did not ask for details, though she craved them.

"Miss, I know Mary thinks you should wed Norrington, and I love her, she's best friend here, but she can be wrong. You do what you want to do, alright?"

Elizabeth smiled as she got into her bath. 

"Yes, I'll try."

"Good. Well, I'll send Mary up in a half hour or so to take care of getting you ready for bed and so forth. Good night, Miss Swann."

"Good night, Anne."

Anne clicked the door shut and hurried to the kitchen, bracing herself for Murstone's wrath.

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Later that night, the wind came in full gust and fury. The clouds danced upon the blackened sky as ghosts going to meet their maker, and Anne basked in the glory of it all, from her cellar room with its little window. There was something eerie about the breeze, but Anne couldn't make it out. 

Then the sound of cannon fire echoed throughout the dampness of the night. Port Royale was under attack. Anne stood up on her cot to see through her window to the fort, but the rose bushes in the garden blocked her view. Anne, aware that if she were to go upstairs to investigate she would have to contend with Murdstone, climbed out her window and to the top of the garden wall. She gazed at the harbor, searching for the attackers. All she could see was a ship with black sails so tattered they couldn't possibly be of use. Yet the cannon fire came from it and that ship had not been in port earlier that day.

_How strange,_ Anne mused as a burst of flame emitted from the fort. The reality of the enormity of the ambush didn't occur to Anne until she saw five rowboats head toward the civilian docks. They intended to harm the people of Port Royale!

_Oh no you don't! _Anne thought, then ran toward town, her frazzled hair coming loose from its bonnet. On her way there, Anne stopped by the smoke house and seized a long carving knife off the wall.

When she reached town, Anne headed at once to J. Brown's smithy. She never did reach it. As she passed the local jail, a canon ball sailed right past her head. Anne fell backward, her knife clanging to the ground. As three prisoners hopped through the newly-made hole, Anne stood and reclaimed her knife. She turned to once again go to the smithy, but somebody stopped her before she could even begin to run. A hand clenched her throat, and a dirty, bearded face grinned at her with the evil of the cardinal sins in his eyes. Anne raised her knife and jabbed it into his cheek. She yanked it out as he yowled and raised his hand to his face. Anne escaped him and, yes, again, tried to get to Will. She needed him to come back and protect the Governor's manor house. Then she saw him, in the street, valiantly battling the ambushers. Anne and Will both fought, Anne trying to get to him, and Will unaware that Anne was there. Then Anne heard Will shout, "Elizabeth!" and she turned to see him falling to the ground, appearing lifeless.

"Will!" Anne cried, trying her damnedest to get to his seemingly lifeless body. She saw a pistol raise and heard the shot before she could even move out of the way at all. Anne collapsed, blood pouring from her wound ……

* * * 

A cool cloth was felt lightly touching Anne's face. She opened her eyes to the placid light of a pale summer morning.

"Where am I?" she murmured to no one in particular. 

"She's awake!" a young woman cried out.

Anne vaguely heard the clop of shoe-heels on an obviously wooden floor. 

"Anne?" said a separate voice. This time it was a man's.

"Will?"

"Anne!"

"Mary?" said Anne. She looked up into the faces of her two friends.

"Will! Are you really alive? Or am I dead with you?" Anne said, in a state between death and sleep and life and waking.

"No, Anne, dear, he's alive," said Mary, "He's just got a nasty bump on his head, and you, darling, are alive as well. You got shot is all. Doctor Simpson says you're going to be just fine."

"Was I shot? Is that why my shoulder hurts like it went to Hell and back? Is that what happened?" asked Anne, slurring her words that would otherwise have made perfect sense. She tried desperately to recall it, but couldn't without fiercer jabs of pain to her left shoulder.

"Yes, Anne, you were shot. But you will heal, the doctor is quite confident of it," Will answered her.

"Oh. Wait, what happened to Elizabeth?" she asked. Will cast his glance to the wooden floor of the infirmary.

"They took her," he answered gravely.

"What?!" Anne, exclaimed, ignoring her pain and sitting up in bed. "Ooooohh, God!" she shouted as her shoulder flared up, "Who --- oh --- who t-took her?"

"They were Pirates," said Mary.

"Pirates! But I thought that one who threatened her got sent to jail."

"He did, but they were different pirates," Will informed Anne.

"But what do they want with her?" Anne implored.

"We don't know. But, as she is the Governors daughter, its probably ransom," Mary told her.

"Dirty, mangy, bastards!" Will said through clenched teeth.

"Well, they're going to go get her aren't they? Norrington and the lot?" 

"No. They don't know where to look. And of course that Norrington isn't about to humble himself and get help from Jack Sparrow," Mary said.

"Oh, so you don't like Norrington now?"

"After his refusal to William here to go find her, no."

"What are we going to do, then?" Anne demanded.

"I don't know, stay here, I suppose," Will answered glumly.

"Stay here?! Stay here? Will, if the good Commodore won't go, you should! Go get her, Will. You said Jack Sparrow knows where this ship, the, uuh ….."

"The Black Pearl," Will offered.

"…..The Black Pearl is heading off to. Well you get help from him. Help me up, I'm coming with you," Anne said, trying to swing her legs over the side of the bed. 

Will stopped her, saying, "No, Anne, you just got shot, for heavens sakes!"

"Oh, that was a good, twelve hours ago, perhaps. I'm going!"

"No, you're not, and neither am I."

"What?"

"If I were to fraternize with a pirate, especially one as infamous as Jack Sparrow, I could be subject to a hanging. I really don't mind that aspect, because I would die for Elizabeth, but now you're hurt, and I can't leave you alone."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Will, I won't _be _alone. I've got Mary, here to take care of me. Will, go after her! Go talk to that Jack Sparrow right now, and you save your Elizabeth. Go!" Anne whispered harshly, so nobody else in the infirmary would hear. 

"Go, Will, I'll heal just fine, and Elizabeth needs you more than I do. Will, bloody go!"

Will stood up straight, and hesitated for a moment of deep thought.

"I shall. I'll go now. Goodbye, Anne." Will leaned down and gingerly kissed Anne's forehead. He turned and put his jacket on, and left.

Anne let the tears she'd suppressed roll down her cheeks. 

"What's wrong Anne? Is your shoulder hurting you?" Mary asked, worried.

"No. I just --- I fear Will goes to his death."

Later that afternoon, Anne heard shouts from the streets, "The Interceptor has been stolen!" And she knew that Will had sailed out on the fastest ship in the Royal Navy with a pirate whom she wasn't sure he could trust.


	4. Chapter Three: A Scar and Retold Adventu...

Disclaimer: do you honestly think I own POTC? I just own Anne.

Chapter Three: A Scar and Retold Adventures

Anne lay abed for a week and a half, which she considered quite a nuisance, and waited for Will to come home. When Anne woke up in the night from the pain, Mary held her hand and whispered words of comfort to her. Mary had no bed to sleep in, the other beside Anne was taken by an old man who, like Anne, woke up frequently in the death of night. The man, unlike Anne, woke from night terrors, screaming and shouting about 'walking corpses' or some other such nonsense. Anne would have assumed that these were just ramblings of an old man who was a bit touched in the head, if it weren't for the fact that many other residents of the infirmary spoke of such oddities as well.

Anyhow, Mary slept in an uncomfortable wooden chair, had naught left the infirmary but once, and then it was only to get a change of clothing for Anne and herself. Any other person would have stopped caring about Anne's well-being long ago, but Mary did not. She loved Anne like she was her own kin and wanted more than anything to help her to get well and to be there for her on the nights Anne couldn't contain the anguish which she felt from her wound and from her worries about Will. Oft, Anne would awaken from those worries and not the pain.

One rather hot night, Anne startled Mary into the waking world, grabbing her wrist and saying, "What if Will dies? What if we can't trust the pirate who is leading him to Elizabeth?"

"Don't worry," Mary soothed, "He'll be fine. Will is a good swordsman, one that could match and defeat any pirate. He'll be alright. Now rest easy, and sleep. Alright, Anne? Sleep."

As Mary stroked her sweating brow, Anne mumbled back to sleep, taking her jumbled thoughts with her. 

************************************************************

"Mary … Mary …" Anne whispered the next morning as the awoke from the dreaming world. 

"Sssh, it's alright," a man said. Was it the doctor?

"Anne slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the wood of the infirmary ceiling. Her eyes crept down to the right. A rather large new hat lay on the night table as did the owner's bandaged hand. A cool cloth dabbed her forehead as Anne looked up into the man's face. Tears filled her eyes.

"Will!" she sighed, smiling. "You're back! And in one piece!" Anne continued, bringing a chuckle from Will.

"Yes, not counting a few scratches, but I'm fine," he said.

"So what happened? I take it Elizabeth's alright?"

"Yes, she's fine."

"So what happened?" Anne repeated. "You aren't just going to leave me wond'rin' are you? Come on Will, tell it."

"Alright, alright. Well, after I had a word with Jack …"

Will relayed the entire adventure to Anne, stopping only to show her his hand, still bloody from last night's cut.

"You know, this whole thing has taught me how foolish I can be. Everything I thought about pirates has been righted by Jack, and the fact that my father was one. He's a good man, and a pirate."

"I'd like to meet this Jack fellow," Anne stated. "he sounds quite interesting."

"Unfortunately, you won't be able to," Will informed Anne.

Anne's smile vanished from her eyes.

"Why not?" she questioned.

"He's to be hanged in an hour. It's not right. If not for him, Elizabeth would have died," Will ranted. Then quieting, he said, "I owe him my life as well."

"Well," Anne squeaked, "it sounds like you know what you have to do, so I won't waste my breath on it. Though, frankly, I am a bit tired of all the heroics," Anne joked. 

Will broke a tiny smile to his lips, got up from his chair and said, "Well, I best get started."

"Will," called Anne, struggling to her feet. "I'm coming with you."

"No."

"Yes."

"No. Your not healed yet, Anne."

"I know that. Now give me your coat so I can go home and change out of my nightdress."

"Anne!" exclaimed Will.

"Alright, fine, I'll go without your coat and half naked," Anne said curtly.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

************************************************************

Anne walked into the fort, her arm in a sling, and handed Will his sword.

"Good luck, Will, and come back from this, alright?"

"I will," he told her. "Stay to the back."

"Alright."

Will smiled and took off. Anne stood behind the crowd and listened. She couldn't see the gallows; too many heads blocked her view. Suddenly, Anne heard a thonk and a rattle, followed by screams and a rush for the exit of the fort. Trying desperately to hold her place, Anne felt somebody jar her wounded shoulder. She yelped as it happened a second time. Rather than let the frightened people reopen her wound, Anne followed the mob, away from her brother, away from his fate, and away from any chance of helping him. She submitted, letting the crowd take her where it willed.

Anne broke away from the pandemonium as soon as she could. She hurried to the naval dock. From there, she could see up to the fort. One soldier was there, but, as he was sleeping, he made no move to stop her. Anne raised a hand to her brow to shield the sun from her eyes just in time to see some projectile object fall off the coquina wall. She leaned over the dock's rail and gazed at a head bobbing up and down as its owner made his way to a ship with black sails. It was the _Black Pearl_. Jack was freed. Anne would have jumped up and down for joy of it weren't for her wounded shoulder. Then she remembered the guard. He still slept.

Anne left the dock and made her way to the governor's household.

A/N: Yes, I know this one was short and was yet another part of the movie taken from a different angle, however, the next chapter will actually begin the meat of the story. I already have it written, its just a matter of typing it up. Fizzle!


	5. Chapter Four: Murder and Thread

Disclaimer: don't own it, never will own it.

Chapter Four: Murder and Thread

The months passed. Anne's shoulder healed, leaving a lumpy scar and a slightly deformed bone. It rarely bothered her; only when it rained did she feel any pain. Will and Elizabeth made plans to be wed. Anne sewed decorations and Elizabeth designed an invitation. Elizabeth had finally broken free of her father's restraints and chains, and Mr. Brown, the smith, had finally died of too much drink. Will now owned the smithy. Things worked out happily for everyone. There was only one thing missing: the jokes and yarns of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. Both Will and Elizabeth wanted him to return and stay a little while, come to the wedding. Anne just wanted to meet him, match the name to the face.

Elizabeth worked on her father tirelessly to pardon Jack so he could return to Port Royale. After many tries, Governor Swann still would not give in. Elizabeth could not invite Jack to Port Royale. However, she would not need to. He paid a visit in August and received a warm welcome --- irons. Jack was thrown in prison, this time under heavier guard. Anne was with Will when he received the news.

Will hammered away on a sword as Anne kept the fire going.

"I don't know why he won't just pardon him," Will stated. "What's he got to lose for it?"

"His place in the House of Lords?" Anne volunteered.

Will said, "Oh, yes I forgot about that."

Then came a knock at the door. Anne left her post to open it. Elizabeth stood there. She looked angry.

"Hello, Elizabeth. You know you don't have to knock. Come inside, if you can bear the heat," said Anne. Elizabeth stepped inside.

"Elizabeth," Will said fondly. Then he saw her frown. "What's wrong?"

"Jack came back, Will, and they put him in jail!" Elizabeth told him. "After all he did for us!" she continued.

"What the bloody hell for?" Anne demanded.

"Simply because he's a pirate. It won't be easy getting him out this time; his cell has two men posted directly outside it, and more indirectly posted."

"Damn," Will cursed.

"Yes, quite right," Elizabeth agreed.

"How is he doing, do you think?" Will asked.

"Knowing Jack, he's probably as happy as ever," said Elizabeth.

"Yes. Probably drunk as well," Will remarked.

"You know he'll get drunk at our wedding, if they don't hang him first."

"Yes."

Soon, they were talking about the wedding again, getting that _look_ about them. The "let's buss" look. Anne decided it was time for her to leave.

"Alright, well, I have to get back before Murdstone dismisses me," Anne said, "t'tah!" She hurried out the door and onto the street. It was dusk, the time when it was hard to see anything, and when many were at home, eating dinner. The sun was in Anne's face as she made her way down the street. As she traveled through the more dangerous part of town, the quiet surrounded her. Nobody ever went through there at dusk but Anne. Then again, she'd lived there more than half her life before her father died. Suddenly, Anne heard voices, at least three of them coming from an alleyway.

"No, I promise! I'll get you your money!" pleaded a woman's voice.

"It's been six months and no profit off you. I don't trust you," said a deep, sinister, male voice. Anne leaned against the brick wall and slowly inched forward until she could peer around the corner into the alleyway. Three men and a woman stood there. One man held the woman's hair in one hand, a knife to her throat in the other. The second man pinned her to the wall, his weight pushed against her. The last man stood back a ways, a coil of rope in his hand. Each string had a barb on the end of it. The woman wore a prostitute's attire, the rags scarcely covering her starved, skeletal form. One of these men could have easily intimidated her; to have three delivering the threat was even more cruel.

"I'd rather take it out of your whorish hide!" said the man who pinned her in his basal, sinister voice.

"No please!" she cried as he pushed her to the ground, the knife barely missing her cheek. The sinister man held her arms above her head as the man with cat o'nine tails beat her, ripping the front of her already-tattered dress. Anne winced at each of the woman's cries, longing to intervene, but bolted to the ground by some unnatural fear.

"Stop screaming, bitch!" shouted the man with the deep voice. She did not desist, she could not. "Oh, you're worth more if I sell you to University," he snarled.

The man took a knife from his boot and slowly, painfully drove it through her throat. As her scream was muffled by the gurgle of new blood, Anne drew in a sharp shriek from her hand-covered mouth. The killers heard. Anne turned and ran. They followed. No matter how fast she could be, the men would be faster. Her only chance was to find a safe place to hide and quickly. Anne chose a low rooftop and climbed up onto it. The killers turned the corner soon afterward.

"You take care of the whore," the leader commanded the other two. "We can't just leave her there like all the others because of who she really is. I'll find the one who saw."

The two ran back the direction they'd come. The other, to Anne's relief, continued forward. Anne waited a long time, then slowly hopped from the roof. Removing her shoes, Anne quietly walked to the center of town, to the smithy.

************************************************************

Elizabeth had just gone back home. Will sat at the table reading, when his door suddenly flew open. In cam Anne, a different, tear-cheeked, disheveled Anne.

"Anne, wha --- "

"Somebody killed her! Somebody killed her!" Anne cried.

"Killed whom?" Will asked, his thoughts instantly going to Elizabeth.

"A strumpet in the bad district!" Anne answered. "They killed her over money! I heard her scream, Will! And I did nothing to stop it!"

"Sssh, there, there now," Will said, taking her in his arms. She trembled and sobbed as he led her to the bed and lay her down.

"There was nothing you could do, Anne. Had they seen you, you would have met the same fate."

"But they heard me. I got away, though. They don't know I'm here," Anne told Will. "Will, they might know, though! I can't stay here. I'll go."

"No, Anne, sleep here tonight. Sleep." Will said. She lay back down and closed her eyes. Sleep came easily, but was troubled with memories.

************************************************************

The next morning, or afternoon rather, Will woke Anne by wiping her sweaty brow with a cool cloth.

"Good afternoon, Anne," he said as she opened her eyes.

"Good afternoon? Blast! I have to get back or I'll be fired! I haven't been already… Oh, bloody hell!" Anne stood and made her way to the door.

"Anne, wait!" Will called. He took a sword and belt off the wall and gave it to her. As she buckled it on, Will put a summer cloak around her shoulders. "Wear the hood," Will told her as she left. Anne went the long way 'round to the back of the house. She entered quietly through the cellar and went to the bedroom she shared with Mary. She took off the sweaty cloak and the sword and shoved them under her bed. She took her spare bonnet from her bureau and put it on; she'd lost her other one last night. She hurried upstairs to the kitchen, where she'd have to face Murdstone. Luckily, when Anne lied about her whereabouts of the previous night, another maid vouched for her. Anne did not lose her job, however, she was assigned a task that was usually reserved for the mornings because of the midday heat and humidity. Anne had to clean the front and back stairs. All of them. Anne got a bucket and soap flakes on her way out.

Cleaning the stairs, with nobody to talk with, gave Anne too much time to think. She imagined the sound of the poor woman's screams, of her death. Anne retched into the bucket. Anne had to refill it now. She did so and returned to her task. Anne had to do so five more times, and finally she decided that she was done with her job and returned to the kitchens.

"Why does a simple task take so long?" Murdstone demanded when Anne got there.

"I'm sorry," Anne said.

"Fine. Chop this meat for tonight's meal," Murdstone told her. Anne cautiously stepped up and took the knife. As she forced it through the raw meat, memories of last night raced through her mind's eye. Every chop brought a sob from her throat. Until the sound of the knife hitting the wood, so like the dagger hitting the pavement, overcame her. Anne vomited into the waste basket by the door.

"Anne," shouted Murdstone, "what in heaven's name is wrong with you?"

Anne looked up from the vomit, now turned bloody from the lack of food in her stomach, and sobbed. Murdstone took one look at her face and metamorphosed from a harsh dictator into a concerned mother. She gasped.

"Good Grace, girl, get to bed with you. I'll fetch the doctor."

Anne stumbled down the stairs to her room in the servant quarters. She closed the door behind her and removed her bonnet, letting her wiry hair go free.

Suddenly somebody grabbed her arm and covered her mouth. She felt a knife pressed against her throat.

"Don't make a sound," a deep whisper commanded. The man pulled Anne backward until she felt she would fall.

"I found your little hat," he said, "and the only place with stuff that fine is here. I'm glad I found you. I have a little message for you. If you tell anybody what you have seen, I will kill you. I promise." The man released the dagger from her throat and brought it down to the place that it met her shoulder. "Will you hold your tongue?" said the man. Anne was too petrified to make a sound. He dug the knife into her flesh and yanked it down, gracing her collar bone with a deep gash. Anne let a muffled yelp escape her lips.

"Will you hold your tongue?" he repeated. Anne nodded, careful of the knife's sharp point, now at her cheek. Her nod was rewarded with a small scratch. "Good." The man forced his knee into her back, pushing her to the ground. He escaped through the open window, leaving Anne to bleed onto the dirt floor.

Anne stood slowly and crawled into bed. But she didn't sleep.

Thankfully, the doctor never came. Mary cam in late and tired, so she went to sleep straightaway. 

When the first light of morning came, Anne put her bonnet on and arranged her hair over her cuts. She then thought better of it and took it off. Anne gingerly undressed and put on some of Will's old clothing. She tied her hair back and put on the summer cloak and sword belt. She left the room quietly.

************************************************************

An hour later, a boy entered the smithy. When Anne drew back her hood, and her wounds shone, Will gasped.

"Saints! Anne?" he said, hurrying over to get a bottle of alcohol. He asked what happened, but he didn't really need an answer. "I'll kill them, hunt them down."

"No, Will! They don't know I told you. I see no reason to make them aware of that."

"Who else knows?" he asked as he cleaned her cut.

"Just you," Anne whispered.

"Mm, that's good. I'll need to stitch this up. I'm so sorry Anne," Will said, apologizing for the pain the reparations would cause.

"I'll be fine Will. It willn't hurt," Anne lied. Will stitched her cut as swift as possible, and Anne held back her cries for him.

When it was over, Will made tea and drew up a bath for Anne. He left the room and busied himself while Anne washed up. When she was finished, Anne dried off and slipped into some of Will's clothes.

"Do you feel a little better?" Will asked as she walked downstairs. Anne nodded. "Do you feel well enough to keep the fire going?" Will teased.

Anne laughed. "No. And if you make me, I swear on my dishrag that you'll find ink in your tea," Anne joked. Then she turned serious. "Listen Will, I've been thinking. I need to leave Jamaica. If I stay, I'll put everyone I love --- including myself, mind you --- in danger. I want to go. Don't try to stop me."

Will thought about this. Finally he murmured, "Jack Sparrow."

"Hmm?"

"Jack Sparrow. I've gotten him out of prison before, and I can do it again."

"But Will, you'll be breaking the law if you do that. No. Won't let you do it," Anne stated firmly.

"Aah, but that's where Elizabeth comes in, if she's willing."

"If I'm willing for what?" Elizabeth stood at the door. This was the only time Anne wished she'd knocked first.


	6. Chapter Five: Devious Feminine Wiles and...

Disclaimer: Do you honestly think I own this? I hate these damn things. Sorry, if you don't like swearing, but there's plenty of it in my story, so get over it. I am PMS-ing (not literally! Figuratively.) Anyhoo, sorry if I sound *itchy. Happy Kwanzaa, Chanukah, Christmas, Midwinter, Whateva.

Chapter Five: Devious Feminine Wiles and Rotten Apples

"Well, uuh, uum …" Anne sputtered.

"What?" Elizabeth asked.

"We're, uuh, going to spring Jack from jail." Will said after a bit of hesitation. Of course, Anne and Will both expected the aristocratic Elizabeth to come out at the mention of this off the wall plan. They braced themselves for it.

"Exciting," Elizabeth remarked, bringing startled stares from her friends. "Count me in."

"Oh. You're not going to go mad on us," Anne mused.

"And Anne is going to leave Port Royale with him," Will added. Madness followed.

"WHAT?! That's insane! You're leaving her with Jack! He'll get her into huge amounts of trouble!"

"I thought you were grateful to him for saving you last time," Anne said.

"Yes, but I wouldn't trust him anymore than I trust a rat not to carry fleas! I still don't entirely trust him after some of the things he said. And it's not so much that I think he's a bad man, just that I don't trust him to keep you out of trouble. He's been shot twice, probably more than that, and he might get you shot as well! You aren't safe with him."

"Well, I'm in more trouble here than there, so I think I best go with him."

"What do you mean?" 

"I just am. Anyhow, are you going to help us?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment, then said, "Yes, I suppose so. But I don't like the idea, just so you know."

"Alright. Let's get a plan together, shall we?" said Will. Anne and Elizabeth nodded. 

Soon, the three of them had set out for the jail, Anne dressed as a boy, Will like himself, and Elizabeth with a bit of lip rouge on, a plan buzzing about in each of their brains.

************************************************************

"What business do you have here, Miss Swann?" said the warden at the entrance.

"Personal," Elizabeth answered. The guard eyed her suspiciously. 

Finally he gave in, saying, "Alright, but you'll need to tell me whose cell you wish to visit, Miss Swann." 

"I wish to see Jack Sparrow," she told him. He coughed on the water he was drinking.

"Could you say that again, Miss?"

"You heard me," Elizabeth said calmly, "I wish to see Jack Sparrow."

"Miss Swann, I'm not so sure that's a --- "

"My father requested it of me," Elizabeth lied.

"Alright Miss, his cell is number 648. I could take you to it."

"No, I'm just fine. I know where it is," Elizabeth said, and began walking down the stairway. Instead of finding his cell, Elizabeth made her way to the sewer opening, where a large drain emptied into the harbour. Lifting her skirt around her knees, Elizabeth walked through the water to where she would meet Will and Anne. She saw their silhouettes in the opening and said, "Come on, we may not have much time."

"Did you find out where his cell is?" Will asked. 

"I do not know the exact locale, but I know the number."

"Let's have it," Anne said.

"Number six-four-eight."

"That's in the east wing, deep under ground," said Will. "I didn't build the cells in that area. That means that they won't have half-pin barrel hinges, rather an earlier kind. I won't be able to break into those cells."

"So, we'll have to think of something else," said Anne.

"Don't fret, I'll take care of that," said Elizabeth. Then they were off. Will led Elizabeth to his cell, hiding in the shadows the whole time, while Elizabeth worked on getting Jack out. There were two guards posted outside his cell, and it would be difficult to get rid of him.

"What's your purpose here Miss Swann?" said one of them.

"I'd like to speak with my rescuer again before he's hanged a second time," Elizabeth told them bluntly. The guards, convinced, turned to rouse Jack. Anne and Will remained in the shadows as Elizabeth scolded in her most aristocratic voice, "He is in a thirsting slumber! Go get some water for poor Jack, both of you, before I report your incompetence to Commodore Norrington and my father." 

They started for the staircase at the end of the corridor. "Wait," Elizabeth commanded, putting a hand on one of the men's shoulder, and stepping closer to him. She whispered into his ear, "Make sure is cold." The guard bolted like a scared puppy up the stairs. 

Elizabeth smiled wickedly as Will and Anne stepped from the shadows. Will scowling, Anne smiling just as criminally. Elizabeth jingled a ring of keys in her hand. She unlocked the cell door. Will walked in and threw a bucketful of water on Jack. Jack, kicking and flailing like a madman, woke up and squinted at Will.

"Hello, darling," said Jack, "you know it's bad luck to wake a man when he's sleeping."

"You know how to fix that."

"Drinks …" Jack sighed.

"There is no time for that. Come on, we'll discuss it later, but in the meantime, let's get you out of here," said Elizabeth.

"Alright, alright," said Jack, "but, 'eh, who's the boy 'ere?"

"Later!" Elizabeth hissed. 

The four of them ran for the drain, paying no attention to the whoots of other inmates. When they reached the drain, Elizabeth popped her head out of the hole. 

"Go on, the coast is clear. Anne first, Jack, then Will."

"Oh, so it is a girl. I --- "

"Shut up!" Elizabeth whispered. "Go on."

All except Elizabeth swam out of the drain, careful not to show themselves when coming up for breath. Elizabeth left to finish her part, dropping the keys in the water in the process. Jack and Anne went to their planned hiding place, and Will went to fetch his boat, which he would give to Jack and Anne to sail away from Jamaica with. When the two arrived there, Jack collapsed onto the sand, saying, "Ahh, the sea, the sea," over and over again. When Elizabeth arrived roughly twenty minutes later, she glared at Jack, who was still saying his mantra.

"Dear Saints, Jack, are you intoxicated?" Elizabeth demanded.

"I don't know really. La di di da da. Da duh duh duh da, Drink up me hearties YO HO!"

"Where in the name of all things holy did you get _rum _in that jail?"

"I didn' really. There was a sack of old apples in the corner, though. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for MEEEEE!" Jack sang the last word so high it was almost imperceptible to the human ear. Anne ran over and tackled him, throwing a hand over his gaping mouth.

"I have a headache," she told him, "so, pipe down!" Anne let him up.

"Oh, dear, I didn know you felt that way, love," Jack said. Anne scowled at him.

"Oh good, holy, blessed Lord!" Elizabeth shouted, plopping down on a nearby rock, chin in hand, foot tapping.

"Oh, Miss Snob curses like a sailor now. How lovely," Jack remarked.

Elizabeth slitted her eyes at him. "Well I had a professional to teach me," she retorted.

"Oh really, who?" Jack asked, really and truly, remarkably stumped.

Elizabeth groaned. Anne glared at him, and held a finger to her lips. He just smiled at her. Anne then realized that she knew this man from someplace, but where?

There was no time to think on it, because just then, Will arrived with his little sailboat.

"Will," said Elizabeth, standing to give him a light kiss. Both Anne and Jack let out exasperated sighs and rolled their eyes. Yes, Anne had wanted them to get married, but not to constantly display their affection for each other to the public --- well, Anne. Even she, a lowly servant from the bad area of Port Royale, knew it was considered indecent to do so.

"Are they always at it like that?" Jack questioned.

"Yes. Sickening isn't it?" Anne replied.

"That it is. On my ship we have none o' that. We're all free men, really --- except for AnaMaria who is, in fact a woman. A ship is freedom, you see. Nobody but you and your crew, its own world. A ship is happiness and it's --- "

"Oh no, Will," said Elizabeth, "he's spouting sonnets now."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Will asked.

"That's when you know he is nearly unconscious," Elizabeth told him. Will just looked at her like she spoke a different language.

"He's drunk," Anne clarified.

"Oh no! Jack!" Will said. "I can't let him sail like this. We can only wait for it to pass. Elizabeth, I'm sorry but --- "

"I know. I'll be missed. It will be better if I get back. Come and see me when this is all done with." Elizabeth kissed Will again, then left. Once she was gone, Will turned to Jack.

"Jack, sleep of this drunken state while I get things ready for you to leave."

"Fine, mate, I'll sleep." 

Soon Jack snored, and Anne fortified the sail with twine.

"So, Will, why were you so late?" Anne said as she pulled another stitch. When Will didn't answer right away, Anne looked up and added, "Just curious."

But Will wasn't looking at her. He was lifting a small box from the stern of the boat.

"What's that?" Anne questioned.

Will opened the box. Inside was a faded black wool coat, and, laying on top of it, was a silver locket with a woman's face, carved from quartz, on it. Anne knew the locket. Inside of it was a curl of blond hair --- Anne's mother's. The locket belonged to her once, before she gave it to Anne's father, who, in turn gave it to Anne. Anne opened it and looked at the charcoal sketch facing the lock of hair. Anne had inherited her mother's mouth and nose, and her father's too-large eyes, freckled skin, and dull, bristly hair. Anne smiled at this thought, then shut the locket and fixed it around her neck. She took her father's jacket and put it on, despite the Caribbean heat.

"You went and got 'em for me?"

"Yes," Will told her. Anne smiled and thanked Will with a big squeeze.

"I'll miss you," Anne sniffled.

"What would you miss 'im for?" said Jack, obviously awake now. Anne and Will parted.

"I've been meaning to talk with you about that, Jack. You see, you're going to sail away on my boat to wherever you're hiding the _Pearl_ and you're taking my sister here with you."

"I didn' know you had a sister. What is she, a halfer? 'Cause I know you were your father's only child. Unless, of course --- "

"Uh, we're actually not blood-sister and brother," said Anne, "more like best friends, only closer."

"Ah. And, why is she coming with me?"

Anne looked at Will.

"I'll leave that for her to say, if she wishes," said Will.

"Which I don't," Anne added.

Jack looked from Anne to Will and back again.

"Right. Well, fine, I'll take her along with me, providing you give me some money to buy her a drink, in Tortuga."

Will, knowing that this was Jack's way of telling him he didn't do favors for free, sighed and tossed a leather change purse from his belt.

"I don't know if that's enough," said Will. Jack brought it to his ear and rattled it. He grinned.

"It'll do," he said.

Suddenly, Anne had an epiphany.

"Ah-ha! OH! Oh," She shouted, pointing at Jack.

"What is it?" Will asked.

"I know you! I saw you at the docks the day the cursed crew of the _Pearl_ sacked us! You stole money," Anne added disapprovingly.

Jack stared at her for a moment, then turned to Will.

"You did explain to her that I'm a pirate did you not?"

"Of course," Will said.

"Well then! Listen, darling, I _am _a pirate. Pirates steal, pilfer, raid, loot, rob and violate nearly every other law in existence. Savvy?" Jack said to Anne. Anne pursed her lips. "Fine," she said. "_Savvy_," Anne said, mocking the word.

"Very good. So, Will, I'm taking the hellion here with me. What do you suppose I tell my crew, 'eh?" 

"That you're helping a damsel in distress."

"Ugh, Will, that's so … demoralizing," Anne protested.

"I agree with the lady on that one, William," Jack put in.

"Alright. Improvise, then."

"I planned to do that anyhow."

"Of course you did," said Will with cynicism. Jack chose to ignore it.

"Yes, I am smart."

"Of course you are," said Will with even more sarcasm.

"You are as well, William. You are a very smart eunuch," Jack retorted. Will laughed.

"Don't start that business again," Will half-joked.

"What is a eunuch?" Anne questioned. Both men looked startled … and nervous.

"You don't want to know," Jack said, after a bit of silence.

"Yeah, I do! Come on, what is it?" Anne pleaded.

"Will, she's your friend; you do the honors," Jack said.

"Oh no, Jack, you brought it up. You tell it," Will refused.

"Will _somebody_ just tell me? It can't be all that terrible. Really. Let's have it," Anne said.

"Alright, you won't stay this naïve for much longer on the _Black Pearl_ anyhow, so here it is: a eunuch is a man who is not bejeweled," said Jack.

"What does that mean?" Anne asked.

"A man who's been castrated, darling," Jack clarified.

"Oh. OH! That's --- uh --- oh! And you say it gets worse?" Anne shouted. Jack only smirked. "Dear me," said Anne.

"Jack, I really don't like the idea of you corrupting her," said Will.

"I'm not. Anyways, if I don't, Gibbs and AnaMaria will, so it'll happen either way."

Will frowned.

************************************************************

Dusk came around, and after completing the mending, storage of provisions, polishing of weapons, repositioning of the rudder, and the mailing of a coin on the mast for luck, goodbyes came to order. Will called Jack aside. They had a long chat as Anne tried to light three lamps without success. She was so nervous her hands were shaking, and her grip had gone the mush. She had finally lit one of them when the two men returned. Jack finished the lighting as Anne stood and went to Will.

"You two think of me at your wedding, alright?" she told him. Will nodded. They clasped each other for what would be the last time in a long while, tears dripping from their eyes. At last, they stepped apart.

"Goodbye," Will said.

"Goodbye," Anne said.

She and Jack got into the boat. Anne hung two lanterns on a pole, and tied the other to the mast. Jack took hold of the oars as Anne and Will watched the distance separate between them. Soon it was too dark for Anne to be able to see Will. Anne cried as she sailed away. She had abandoned her only family to live a life on the high seas, with a pirate who was perpetually drunk.


End file.
